Sacrifice and Resolution
by lycanus1
Summary: After spending an idyllic night with his persistent young admirer, a confused and thanks to Tristan's infidelity, emotionally messed up Dagonet makes the ultimate sacrifice and decides to let him go - only a loved-up, stubborn Lucan resolves not to give up on his beloved Healer without a fight ... **WARNING: strictly AU and rated for seriously potty-mouthed knights**
1. Confrontation

**Disclaimer:** Never were mine. _S_ _till_ not mine ... and knowing my luck, never will be mine - godsdammit ! Though I do own both Lucan (he's not the character from the movie - I just loved the name) and his feisty sister, Aeron.

 **Warning:** Strictly AU & _not_ related to the rest of my KA fics. Contains strong language - yup, the boys, gods love 'em, are still as potty mouthed as ever. No change there then ...

 **A/N:** The background to and for the characters can be found in _**"The Wolf and The Mage"**_ which is on indefinite hiatus.  
As Dagonet and Bors await their release papers from the Roman army, Dagonet finally discovered something the rest of his Brethren already knew - Tristan was cheating on him with Lancelot. Devastated, Dagonet breaks up with his unfaithful Scout and vows to have nothing further to do with him. Meanwhile, Merlin's son, Lucan (also a gifted magic user and shapeshifter) discovers the shocking identity of the one he's destined to be with. Lonely yet totally captivated, Lucan vows to do everything in his power to win his soul mate's heart ... something that takes a certain unsuspecting Sarmatian Healer completely off guard ...

 _ **XXXXXXXXX**_

 _ **Confrontation**_

Dagonet was distracted. So much so, that he failed to hear Bors' approach until he felt his kinsman's knee gently bump against his right thigh as Bors carefully pulled Ignis alongside of Flight. Startled by the unexpected contact, the taller Roxolani flinched, drawing a low rumble of laughter from the garrison's prize fighter.

"Alright, cousin ?" Bors asked quietly, his intense dark eyes studying his blood relative carefully.

Dagonet gave an indifferent shrug and grunted noncommittally, keeping his gaze firmly on the horizon in a vain attempt to avoid being drawn into a conversation with his very nosy, outspoken, well-meaning kinsman. Right now, he just wanted to be left alone. In peace. Though there wasn't much hope of that with Bors at his side blathering on, trying to draw his attention. All Dag could think of was the beguiling, young kennel hand who was sorely testing his will-power and weakening his defences. In fact, all Dagonet had been able to think of over the past few days, was the attractive newcomer ... particularly after the last encounter he'd had with the younger man, where Lucan had unexpectedly kissed him, then fled before Dagonet had been able to think coherently or even react.

That had been three days ago. Three days since he'd had another awkward, yet confused conversation with Vanora, who'd tried to help him see things more clearly. And three very long, uncomfortable days with just his own thoughts for company and no contact at all with Lucan, who to his utter dismay, had gone to ground. Something he hadn't expected from the quietly confident, amiable, young Brit. Hell ! After that first encounter outside the confines of the fort, where Dagonet had stumbled upon Lucan attempting to remove a thorn from one of the deerhounds' paws and Dagonet had, against his better judgement, stopped to help him with the large, distressed animal, the grateful youngling had been nothing if not persistent and had made a point to seek him out. To befriend him. Draw him into conversation. Make him laugh. Lucan had doggedly sought him out to do all that on a daily basis, much to Dagonet's bemusement. At first the shy, reserved Roxolani had been irritated by and wary of the attention and had been unsure whether the gesture of friendship was genuine. That someone - the finger of suspicion firmly pointed at Bors - had put the lad up to it. And all of this was one elaborate, cruel hoax ... and the joke was on him.

Yet the more Dagonet reflected upon the young native's behaviour, the more he realized how wrong he was. He could see the sincerity in Luc's blue-green eyes. Hear it in his husky voice. Could feel it radiating from that lean, sinewy frame ... Deep in thought, Dagonet slowly shook his head. How could he have got it so wrong ? How could he be so stupid ? So blind ? He closed his eyes and an inaudible groan escaped his lips as the reality of the situation finally sank in. How could he have fucked up so badly with Lucan ? Hurt and misjudged someone who'd genuinely cared for him and shown him nothing but respect and honesty from the very start ? And there was no denying that the handsome rapscallion had been badly wounded by Dagonet's response, or rather non-response, to that fleeting, gentle yet somewhat innocent play Lucan had made to him at the tavern kitchen. That he was far too embarrassed by his actions to have anything to do with Dagonet and had resorted to ignoring the older knight or fleeing from him at every given opportunity ...

"Dag ?"

Noting his kinsman's distraction and lack of response, Bors sighed heavily and leant forward in his saddle causing it to creak beneath his bulk. He absently patted Ignis' sleek neck, his eyes narrowed speculatively and tiny lines furrowed his brow as he studied his cousin with concern, instinctively knowing that he was clearly hiding his feelings. Dag was much quieter than usual, if it was at all possible and appeared both reflective and confused. And that dismayed Bors greatly.

" _DAG !_ "

"Huh ?"

With a pang of guilt, Dagonet reluctantly tore his thoughts away from the one person who'd consistently been on his mind for the last three days and turned it warily upon his blood kin.

"You two fallen out ?" Bors enquired softly, his voice a deep rumble, having noted how Dagonet's bright silver eyes had dulled and were trained on the horizon ... which also happened to be in the direction of their fort. The older Roxolani often acted daft, but he was no fool and he certainly wasn't blind. He'd been quick to notice the budding friendship that was cautiously being forged between his kinsman and Ulric's new kennel hand and now took a keen, yet subtle for him, interest in their fledgling relationship. Dagonet sighed and failed to hide the flicker of regret that appeared for a brief instant on his rugged face.

"Uh, fallen out with who ?"

"Lucan, y'numpty !"

"Not that I'm aware of ..." he replied quietly. "There's no quarrel on my part."

"Well, something's bothering the lad for him to be giving you the cold shoulder." Bors canted his head to one side. "He's not the kind to ignore someone. Y'sure you've not done anything to upset him ? Even _I_ can tell he's unhappy 'n' brooding over something ..." Pausing, Bors glanced slyly at the powerful Healer at his side and added casually, "or _someone_ ..."

Dagonet shifted uneasily in his saddle and transferred Flight's reins to his left hand before resting his right hand upon a tense, muscular, leather-clad thigh. The silver orbs were now undeniably tinged with sorrow as he silently contemplated Bors' words. Knowing he'd been the one who'd unwittingly hurt Lucan had guilt gnawing fiercely at his conscience.

"Listen, Dag, I know you probably don't want to talk about whatever's going on between the pair of you ... Hell ! I'm not sure _I want_ to know what's happened, but it's _you_ Lucan's narked with. No one else. You're the one he's not talking to. The one he's avoiding. I don't care how you do it, but you need to sort things out ... make amends with the lad." Bors paused briefly to give Dagonet an opportunity to respond. An opportunity that his confused and rather tongue-tied kinsman failed to take. "Fuck, Dag ! Whatever it is, sort it out. Aye ? If not for your own sake, or even the rest of the brethren's, do it for him. Y'hear me ? 'Cause believe me, Ulric's bound to notice something's up 'n' when he does, he'll be well pissed ... So, if I were you, I'd sort it out sooner rather than later, before the hounds-master decides he wants your blood for hurting the boy- "

"Bor- "

Bors wearily shook his head and muttered, "Just get it sorted, Dag. I mean it. The lad looks like a kicked pup 'n' you're looking like the man who kicked that very same whelp ! It doesn't take a seer to notice you both like each other ... So, man up, cousin. Pull that finger out of your fucking arse 'n' make amends with Lucan before things get so bad that you can't mend them. Right ?" Then shrugging his massive shoulders, Bors broke eye contact as his gaze fell upon another member of his brethren. He lightly dug his heels into Ignis' sleek, ebony flanks and yelled, "Oi ! 'Rak ! Wait up. That business you mentioned earlier ? Still want to talk about it ?"

The strapping Iazyges giant turned his head sharply and inclined his head once in response, causing his sleek, dark mane to brush against broad, powerful shoulders. Bors acknowledged the gesture with a dip of his own shaven head before eyeing Dagonet pensively.

"Remember what I said, cousin. You _need_ to mend this 'n' do it soon. Don't care how you go about it, just get it bloody sorted ... aye ?" Digging his heels once more into Ignis' flanks, Bors rode on ahead to where Lamorak and the others were waiting for them, leaving a silent, dumbfounded Dagonet nodding in his wake.

 _ **XXXXX**_

When they finally got back to the fort, it was getting dark and by the time Dagonet had stabled Flight and made sure that the powerful destrier's needs had been satisfactorily met before heading off to the tavern to grab a bite to eat. Dagonet closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he silently cursed a certain lithe Brit for making him feel so preoccupied over the past few days.

Distracted by his thoughts, the strapping Healer was unaware that most of his brethren had either left for the bath-house or their quarters. It was only when Lamorak brushed past him, with Bors hot on his heels, that he realized they were both undoubtedly on their way to the tavern. The huge titan gave Dagonet a friendly slap on the shoulder before striding briskly out of the stables. Bors meanwhile, paused and gave his cousin a meaningful look.

"You know what you need to do, cousin. Clear the air with Lucan 'n' get rid of all this shit between you. If you don't, you could well live to regret it."

Dagonet did not remain long at the stables after Bors headed for the tavern with Lamorak. He gave Flight an affectionate pat on the rump then left hastily in search of his elusive friend.

 _ **XXXXX**_

An hour or so later, Dagonet stalked up stairs which led up to the loft above the kennels for the second time that evening. His mood was definitely grim and his silver eyes dark and cloudy with anxiety. He'd gone to all of Lucan's known haunts and failed to locate him anywhere. As he crossed the creaky landing floor, he came to an abrupt halt before the doorway to the Brit's chamber. Dagonet pulled his lower lip between his teeth and began to worry it gently as he pondered his next move.

"Ach ... fuck it !" he muttered and raised a large fist and rapped sharply against the oak door. There was no reply. Then deciding he had nothing to lose, carefully opened the door and quietly slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

It was as he suspected. The room was devoid of its owner. Dagonet sighed in frustration and agitatedly rubbed his nape. There was only one thing left that he could do. Hell ! He'd already traipsed across the entire gods-damned fucking fort with no success ... and he was cold, hungry and above all, absolutely knackered. The contrary little bugger would eventually have to show his face and return to his lair to get some rest. And Dagonet was intent on sorting whatever-the-hell-it-was that had fucked things up so badly between them, before either of them were even going to think of sleep !

The Healer absently studied the room. Someone had clearly been there that evening as the torches on the wall were lit and there was a blazing fire in the hearth. It was a small, neatly kept room, which had an old, oak chest at the foot of a large, fur-covered bed and a fine horse bow and a quiver full of arrows lay upon it. Two chairs were situated opposite each other by the fireplace and large, thick fleeces were scattered all over the floor. Underneath the window sill was another chest. It was slightly smaller than the other one which was clearly used to store Lucan's belongings. In the corner of the room, beneath a torch, was a table and on top of it was a large wooden bowl, a clay pitcher of clean water and a couple of goblets.

Dagonet sat upon the chest by the window and decided to bide his time, knowing full well Lucan would have to return in order to sleep. Whoever had tended the room had forgotten to close the window shutters and Dagonet peered idly outside as he awaited the errant youngling's arrival. He prayed he wouldn't have long to wait.

Thankfully, the gods decided to be merciful. Dagonet heard the soft, familiar, stealthy tread of his quarry approach the door. A grim smile curved his lips. This time, whether he liked it or not, Lucan would have to talk to him. And Dag was adamant that a refusal _wasn't_ an option. The door creaked and slowly opened, causing the Roxolani to suddenly hold his breath. The lithe, athletically built man entered the chamber, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot before trudging wearily into the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Lucan leaned forward and tugged off his leather boots allowing them to rest where they fell. He looked shattered and swayed slightly as he stood to unfasten his belt and a slipped a pair of lethal hunting knives which he'd kept hidden beneath his tunic, under his pillows. A faint yawn escaped his lips. The sound tugged a slight grin from the Healer's lips. He'd been right in his assumption that Lucan wouldn't be able to stay away from his bed for long. Dagonet heard a husky groan and watched in fascination as Lucan stripped off his forest green tunic and tossed it carelessly on the chest's lid, revealing a lean, sinewy torso, its skin pale and relatively blemish and scar-free apart from a beautifully intricate Celtic tattoo of a fox entwined with a wolf on his right shoulder blade.

Dagonet suddenly felt his mouth become dry and nervously moistened his lips as he noted Lucan's capable, beautifully shaped hands begin to tug at the laces of his leathers. He swallowed hard and decided it was best to make his presence known ... To give his friend - and that, to Dagonet's astonishment, was how he now viewed Lucan - fair warning before he embarrassed himself further and made things even worse between them. Not that it was a hardship to look at the half-naked man by any means, Dagonet mused absently. After all, Lucan was an impressive example of the country's native inhabitants at its finest. A breath-taking, captivating specimen of virility and masculine beauty. Just his type, in fact. Tall, bearded, lean, lithe and sinewy. A gentle soul who possessed a keen mind and a sly, dry wit. Stunned by the direction his thoughts were taking him and by the sudden discomfort caused by the snugness of his leathers, Dagonet slowly shook his head in disbelief as he realized and finally accepted that he was _very_ attracted to Lucan.

Slowly, Dagonet unfurled himself from his vantage point by the window and cleared his throat. The sound echoed within the silent room, startling the younger man. Lucan froze momentarily, then suddenly turned around to confront the intruder. The shock of seeing the man who'd consumed his thoughts and haunted his dreams since the gods had willed it so - the very man whom he'd foolishly and clumsily made a pass at three days previously and had been rejected by - actually standing before him in his quarters, suddenly drained Lucan's face of all colour.

Biting his lower lip, Lucan tore his gaze away from the strapping Healer and lowered his head to stare at his bare feet. He watched his toes curl into the thick fleece and found himself mute. Unable to utter a single word. And wishing more than anything that Dagonet would just bugger off and leave him be. That the man he'd come to love more than anything would be merciful and allow him to curl up and die of sheer embarrassment without witness. Lucan found himself praying that if he could just ignore the older Sarmatian, that Dagonet would take the hint that he wasn't wanted there ... that he'd give up and return to his own quarters. But it seemed as if his prayers were to be unanswered ...

"Lucan ... ?"

Dagonet's husky voice broke the silence, making Lucan groan inwardly and briefly close his eyes once more. Resolutely, he kept his own counsel and his gaze remained fixed upon the floor.

"Luc, _please_ ... Look at me ?"

Dagonet's soft plea was his undoing. Lucan's head flew up, his lean frame coiled with tension. He began to card restless fingers through his cropped, reddish-brown hair and eyed the taller knight warily. Dagonet appeared to be equally ill at ease, his uncertainty clearly revealed by the hand agitatedly rubbing his nape. Lucan was suddenly distracted by the sight of Dagonet's long, skilful, callused fingers kneading and unravelling the tense sinews at the back of his neck. He gave an inaudible gasp as he began to imagine the very same fingers possessively, sensually, caressing his own skin as they roamed freely and unhindered over his body. The thought alone was enough to make him tremble with need and want.

"I-It's late and ... and I'm tired, Dag. Wh-What the bloody hell d'ya want from me ?" he demanded, once he finally found his voice. To his own ears, it sounded raspy and full of uncertainty.

The Roxolani was about to take a step closer to him, then abruptly changed his mind. He eyed Lucan speculatively and tilted his head to one side. It was a gesture that all the brethren, unlike Lucan, were familiar with as it always signified the older knight was contemplating his next move carefully.

"I want ..." Dagonet began haltingly, a pained expression crossing his rugged features. "I want us ... _Bloody fucking hell !_ " Confused silver orbs suddenly clashed with equally nervous and bewildered cobalt. "You ? Me ? We need to talk, Luc."

"Er ... what about ?" Lucan was instantly on his guard. His expressive eyes wary and anxious.

Dagonet slowly shook his head in disbelief as it became clear that the youngling was going to take the path of denial rather than discuss what was preying on his mind. "Gods, Lucan ! You know perfectly damn well what about ... We need to discuss what happened the other day ... when you kis- "

The normally confident shape-shifter looked panic-stricken and Dagonet couldn't fail to notice the way Lucan's intelligent blue-green eyes kept flickering towards the door. That he appeared to be looking for a means of escape.

"Look, Dag, let's be reasonable about this, aye ? Can we do this in the morning ? After we've both had some rest ? It's been a long day, for mercy's sake- "

Snorting, Dagonet raised a very sceptical eyebrow. " _What ?_ And risk having you do another runner on me again ? I _don't_ think so. Nah, we're doing this here. Now."

Then, without warning, the slighter man darted past him and attempted to open the door. Dagonet gave a low growl and swiftly turned on his heel at a pace which belied his powerful build. He reached out and grabbed hold of Lucan's wrist, spun him around and slammed his back against the door, before bolting it securely with a calmness he did not feel.

The oak felt cold, rough and unrelenting behind Lucan's back. Keeping his head bowed so that the Healer was unable to read his face and see how daunted and aroused he was beginning to feel by Dagonet's closeness, Lucan inhaled raggedly and bit his lip once more. He wasn't a small man by any means, but the scarred Roxolani towered over him. Made him feel vulnerable, yet if it were at all possible, safe at the same time. He inhaled deeply, taking in Dagonet's attractive, musky scent and tried to wriggle his wrist free of the elder's firm, gentle grasp.

"P-Please, Dag ... l-let go ..." he raised his head only to find himself staring at a calm, silently fuming Dagonet who was shaking his head in refusal.

"I don't think so. D'ya honestly take me for a fool, Luc ? That I'd simply let you go only to have you go to ground once more ? Oh, no ... I intend to keep an eye on you and keep you close at hand until you give me the answers that I want." He leant closer, placing his right hand against the door close to Lucan's head and braced himself so that he wouldn't crush the smaller man. "Now, talk !"

"Dag- "

"Lucan !" Dag growled a low warning. "What's going on inside that head of yours ? Why did you- ?"

Lucan swallowed hard and ran his tongue across his lower lip, unaware of the fact that the unconscious gesture drew Dagonet's heated gaze to his mouth. "Why did _I_ kiss _you ?_ D'ya not know ?"

Baffled and more than a little exasperated by Lucan's reply, Dagonet used his index finger to tilt up the Mage's chin, before gently grasping it and forcing him to make eye contact.

"What don't I know ?" Dag rasped gruffly, his brow furrowed with confusion. "If I _knew,_ I wouldn't be asking ... I _need_ to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak ..."

"Oh, goddess ..." Lucan groaned, a flicker of despair crossed his eyes, even though he revelled in the feel of Dagonet's touch upon his skin. " _Why_ are you so fucking oblivious to what's right in front of you, huh ? Are _you_ so blind that you _can't_ see ?"

"See _what ?_ "

" _ME !_ " Lucan snapped, his broad, smooth chest rising and falling in agitation. "Me, gods-damn it ! Me ... Am I so bloody insignificant or unworthy of your attention ? Why in goddess' name can't you see that I care about you ? That you mean a lot to me ?"

"Lucan ... I- "

"Will you just shut the fuck up ? You wanted me to talk - _I'm_ _talking_ ..." the normally cool, even-tempered shifter suddenly flared up. "You wanted to know what's going on inside my head, well here it is, in all its bloody glory ! My feelings for you ... When I said that I cared ... I wasn't entirely honest with you. What I ... what I feel for you ... it's, it's far from brotherly, Dagonet ... It's stronger, far deeper than anything I've ever felt for anyone before. Most of the time I'm in awe of you. I respect you and your opinion truly matters to me. _You_ matter to me. More than anyone in this fucking hellhole."

Lucan paused and took a deep breath. "I see you and you take my breath away. My heart races and my chest feels tight when I hear your voice. And you don't want to know how uncomfortable my leathers become when you're nearby ... I need you like the air I breathe and ... and I knew I wanted you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you. I _still_ want you, Dag, so badly that it hurts ... Being with you and not able to have you makes me physically ache- "

Dagonet's head spun with Lucan's words and he resorted to doing the only thing he could to silence him. He lowered his head and swiftly claimed Lucan's lips, taking them in a hard, relentless, searingly passionate kiss. On first contact, the startled shifter froze, then once he realized that Dagonet was kissing him - actually kissing him of his own free will - all the tension he felt eased away. Lucan relaxed completely and wound his free arm around the Healer's lean waist, drawing him close until they were both flush against each other as he returned the kiss. The burning sensation in Lucan's chest was a timely reminder that he needed air. He parted his lips and Dagonet, who was equally as caught up and enthralled by the kiss, was quick to take advantage of it. The nuance of the kiss gradually altered. It became softer. Gentler. Intimate. Yet somehow, it still managed to retain all of the passion and its original fire. He could feel Dagonet's fingers slide across his nape, becoming entangled in his hair, tugging insistently, demanding more ...

Eventually, a stunned Dagonet broke free. His hand slid gently down Lucan's throat, lightly skimming over firm pectoral muscles before coming to rest upon his madly beating heart. Dagonet's face was pale, yet his cheekbones were lightly flushed as were his kiss-swollen lips and his silver eyes were glazed and dark with passion. Both men were panting deeply and were equally aroused. Burning with need for each other.

Dagonet's right hand lay against Lucan's cheek, his thumb lightly brushing the youngling's full, bruised lower lip. "What have you done to me, Luc ?" he rasped hesitantly. Lucan's grin lit up his face, reminding Dagonet of the sun's sudden appearance from behind a storm cloud. It was bright. Dazzling. And all too captivating.

"No more than you've done to me, Dag," he replied huskily, slowly turning his head to brush his lips tenderly against the Healer's warm palm. Dagonet's breath hitched abruptly.

"I ... I cannot be who you seek, Lucan ... You _know_ that. I'm broken ... damaged, if you will. You deserve better. I'm no good for you. Truly I'm not. I'll only cause you pain. Find someone who won't hurt you. Don't settle for a man who can never be heale- "

Lucan's handsome countenance darkened, his lips thinned and his jaw clenched with anger. "Am I not allowed to decide for myself who I want ? That I'd settle for just anyone ? I know _who_ I want ... the one _I_ need. And my heart's made its choice. It's set on you, Dag. _YOU !_ No one else will do. I don't want anyone else. I love _you_ , you stupid git ! Can't you get it through your bloody, stubborn, thick skull that I'm _in_ love with you ? I swear I have been since the first time I laid eyes on you. I couldn't help it ... you made such a lasting impression. One I'm not likely to forget !" he grinned teasingly, reaching up to tenderly trail a knuckle down the scar which marred the left side of Dagonet's face.

"Bu-"

" 'But' nothing, Dag. I'm a grown man. I've made my choice ... and I choose you. _Only you._ I know you've been badly hurt and I'm not going to make empty promises about not hurting you, because I can't. I can only swear that I'll try my damnedest not to." Lucan reached up and drew Dagonet's head closer until their foreheads rested against each other. He spoke softly and with absolute sincerity. "All I ask, Dag, is that you give me a chance ... to prove to you how serious I am about you ... I want the chance to be the one that heals you, _if_ you'll let me ?"

 _ **T.B.C.**_


	2. Running Scared

_**Running Scared**_

He was roused by the weight of a sinewy forearm snaking around his lean waist and the warmth of a lithe, toned, hard body drawing him close. Spooning him. Making him feel safe. Protected. Cared for. Cherished ... It was followed by the sensation of a neatly trimmed beard lightly scraping his left shoulder; of firm, sensuous lips gently nuzzling his throat and blunt fingernails and callused fingertips fleetingly grazing his nipple. He inhaled sharply and firmly bit his lip in a feeble attempt to quash the needy moan that threatened to escape as an all too familiar heat began to unfurl in his lower belly.

For an instant, he closed his eyes once more. Allowing himself a brief moment to savour the feel of being held by someone. To succumb to the pleasurable sensation of a warm body curved around and draped over him. The feel of taut sinew and strong, toned thighs flexing against his; the heat emanating from an undeniably masculine form and its pleasantly musky, alluring scent. The moment ended abruptly when the hand began its leisurely descent down his torso and came to rest perilously close to his groin.

His bed-mate gave a contented sigh then drowsily murmured his name, "Mmm, Dag ..."

Dagonet froze. Just the sound of Lucan's raspy sleep-laden voice was enough to send the blood directly to his nethers, making him impossibly and painfully hard. It also brought the memories of all that had transpired between them the previous night flooding back ...

 _ **FLASHBACK:**_

Lucan reached up and drew Dagonet's head closer until their foreheads rested against each other. He spoke softly, with absolute sincerity. "All I ask, Dag, is that you give me a chance ... to prove to you how serious I am about you ... I want the chance to be the one that heals you, _if_ you'll let me ?"

Dagonet swallowed hard as the shifter's long, elegant fingers idly caressed and teased the sensitive skin at his nape. Somehow, the slighter man knew instinctively how and exactly where to touch him ... how to make his traitorous body willingly and eagerly respond ... rendering him incapable of all thought save for Lucan and an unquenchable thirst for his touch ...

The Roxolani felt Lucan's left hand lightly, yet possessively, come to rest upon his hip. The heat of his palm seeped through the snug-fitting leathers, unconsciously branding him. Claiming ownership. Lucan slowly drew him closer. Their bodies were flush ... Pressing against each other intimately. Chest to broad chest. Groin to groin. Both as equally aroused as the other ... Dagonet's breath hitched sharply.

"Please, Dag ..." Lucan whispered hoarsely. Trembling fingers caressed Dagonet's left cheek. The same fingers skimmed his firm jaw line, before gently grasping his chin and tilting it upwards. Hesitant, needy silver orbs warily met blazing blue-green eyes that burned fiercely. Passionately. Hungrily. "Let me ... ?"

Despite his better judgement, Dagonet wavered. He was torn. Conflicted. He knew nothing good would come of this. Of what Lucan softly pleaded for ... of what they both wanted. Dagonet knew then he'd made a grave error ... more than one. The first being allowing the younger man to get under his skin ... to get so close to him and not discourage him. And now, things had gone too far. His second mistake was being here. In Lucan's chamber. Alone with him. He sighed. Of course Bors had been right. The situation between him and the handsome Brit needed to be resolved. And quickly. But he should have done it on neutral ground ... with witnesses. Not on Luc's home territory, where he possessed the upper hand ... and the kennel hand was far from stupid. He was an intelligent man and would've quickly realized Dagonet's error of judgement and capitalized on it. Turning the situation to his advantage. And Lucan was no fool ... he'd done exactly that.

But the worst thing he'd done, Dagonet suddenly realized, was to remain there instead of quickly saying what he needed to say and beating a hasty retreat ... He silently groaned. Now here he was, standing passively - unable to move away - instead of breaking free from Lucan's embrace. All because he couldn't help craving the youngling's touch. He yearned for it. _Needed it._ And goddess help him, he wanted whatever this was between them, as badly as Lucan did ...

Unable to break eye contact and completely enslaved by the intensity and desire in Lucan's eyes, Dagonet could only dip his head imperceptibly ... yielding to temptation's, for that's what Lucan was, plea. And Lucan was all too quick to recognise his capitulation; his response was as swift as lightning ... albeit endearingly clumsy in his eagerness. In his haste to claim Dagonet's mouth once more, the blue-eyed native - being a couple of inches shy of the tall Healer - misjudged the distance between them and ended up brushing his lips against Dag's firm, heavily stubbled jaw. The following attempts were just as successful ... The second attempt involved two colliding foreheads and mild cursing on both sides which was followed by several tries that resulted in noses being bumped against each other and even more frustrated, colourfully vehement effing and blinding than before ...

"Oh, bugger !" Lucan grumbled, carding restless fingers through his already tousled hair, whilst herding an oblivious Dagonet backwards towards the large bed. "This is all your bloody fault, you overgrown Roxolani ogre ... Why the bloody fuck d'ya have to be so damn tall ?"

The all too obvious frustration on the shorter man's attractive countenance coaxed a rueful grin on Dagonet's lips as he fondly studied Lucan. "Insolent Cub," he growled softly. "Not my fault you're a gods-damn short arse, is it ?"

By now, the vertically challenged, impatient "short arse" had successfully manoeuvred the strapping, dawdling "ogre" to their intended destination. As soon as the back of the scarred warrior's legs struck the side of the bed, his legs unexpectedly gave way and he fell back on top of the mattress. Then with no warning at all, he was firmly pinned down to the bed by the weight of the younger man. Lucan lay sprawled on top of him, grinning wickedly, his shrewd eyes gleaming with mischief and longing.

"Insolent Cub, hmmm ?" Lucan smirked, rasping a low, seductive purr that made Dagonet's body clench with need. The smirk intensified as Lucan noted Dagonet's silver eyes darken and glaze over with desire. "If that's the case, how come this "short arse" has _you_ exactly where _he_ wants you ?" And to further his point, the lithe Celt lazily ground his hips against Dagonet's, leaving the older knight in no doubt how badly he, Lucan, wanted him.

Slowly, Lucan closed the gap between them. The unexpected touch of a moist, hot tongue lightly tracing the curve of an ear, before sharp, white teeth gently worried and tugged his earlobe, had Dagonet writhing in anticipation. Lucan suddenly withdrew and leisurely turned his attention to Dagonet's strong jawline, nibbling and laving it before capturing his soul mate's lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss Dagonet found impossible to resist. It beguiled and seduced him. Made him yearn for more. And as it intensified and became more passionate, Lucan started to crave more contact. Deft hands impatiently tugged at Dagonet's tunic; callused fingertips avidly seeking hard, toned sinew and flesh cloaked by warm, golden skin. Lucan began to push the offending garment away from the gentle giant's torso, hardly daring to believe that he was finally making some headway with the man who governed his thoughts and haunted his dreams.

The sudden need for air forced Lucan to break the kiss. Raising his head, he looked down at the man who lay beneath him, suddenly fearing what Dagonet's reaction would be; dreading the thought of the look of rejection and horror in the older warrior's expressive, striking silver orbs. What he actually saw in those eyes stunned him. They were several shades darker than their normal hue and unbelievably, watching him with a combination of curiosity, anticipation and warmth. Reading further into their depths, he also saw a growing need and intense hunger ... that Dagonet also wanted, craved the same thing. That Dag desired him ...

Lucan moistened his lower lip then bit down on it before slowly releasing it. Canting his head to one side, he studied Dagonet then glared pointedly once more at the tunic which greatly offended him.

"Way I see it, Dag, we've a bit of a problem here ..." he murmured, his gaze returning to Dagonet's face, carefully memorizing every inch of the rugged Sarmatian's countenance, not wanting to forget the way the burly knight was looking at him. "One of us seems to be far too attached to his bloody tunic !"

Reluctantly, Lucan pulled away and shifted until he was able to comfortably straddle Dagonet's thick, muscular thighs; then before Dag could utter a word of protest, he leisurely grabbed hold of his tunic and drew the attractive Roxolani's torso up to meet his and leisurely stripped away the garment which perversely concealed what his eyes hungered to feed upon.

Once he'd got rid of, or more accurately flung Dagonet's tunic on top of the chest at the foot of the bed, Lucan curiously trailed his right hand over warm, soft skin which covered an expanse of taut, hard muscle. The sight before him far exceeded what he remembered seeing at the stables' water-pump. Of a tunic-less Healer caked in spattered blood and grime impatiently washing himself after an unexpected skirmish with Lucan's own people. That had been a dream ... a mere fantasy. But this ? This was reality ... cold, hard and terrifyingly beautiful to Lucan's eyes.

The hand which was tentatively exploring Dagonet's broad chest quickly gained confidence. Long, slim fingers nimbly skimmed, teased, scratched and caressed Dagonet's powerful body, eager to learn the big man's weaknesses and what he enjoyed. Lucan quickly discovered that Dagonet was ticklish in some areas, by the way his stomach muscles clenched and trembled and the suddenly indrawn breath by the elder when Lucan had accidentally raked his nails across Dagonet's nipples gave away how sensitive they were. Grinning to himself, Lucan stored that particular titbit for future reference. After all, if just the touch of his nails could make the shy Roxolani respond so sweetly, so intensely, then gods only knew how he would react to the feel of Lucan's lips, mouth, teeth and tongue ... and that was something Lucan fully intended to discover before the night was through. He wanted to feel Dagonet writhe beneath him, cling helplessly to him and to hear the older man repeatedly cry his name as he was caught in the throes of passion.

Suddenly, before his touch could wreak further mischief upon the object of his affections, Lucan felt a warm, large hand trap his own directly above Dagonet's wildly beating heart. Preventing it from straying further. The giant Healer's chest rose and fell agitatedly beneath his palm and his cheekbones were lightly stained with colour.

"N-No more, Cub, I beg of you ..." he rasped, unaware of the pet name he'd just bestowed upon his very eager, would-be lover, whilst shifting slightly to ease the snug-fitting leather that was chafing his straining arousal. "No more ... I swear to gods you'll be the death of me, Luc." Dagonet felt the talented lips which had been gently nuzzling his throat pause then curve into a smile.

"Not happening, Dag ... but if by any strange twist of fate it does, I aim to make damn sure that _you_ die happy," he murmured, returning to the task at hand, that of turning the gentle giant into a quivering wreck of need and want. "Just want you to be happy ... and for me to be the one that makes you happy ..." And with that remark he continued to worship Dagonet's body, eliciting growls, hisses and needy moans from the normally silent knight with every single touch.

Dagonet found himself burning up. All traces of doubt and insecurity were gone. Banished by the handsome man who was so intent on claiming him. At that moment, all Dagonet could think of was Lucan. How he looked. Sounded. Tasted. Felt. The Mage had successfully got under his skin. Beguiled. Captivated ... and completely enthralled him. Lucan was who he needed. Wanted ... Desired. _He_ was the one who'd rendered him of all reason and rationality and finally made him crave, yearn for another's touch once more. Something Dagonet had thought he'd never feel capable of feeling after Tristan's cruel betrayal.

And now, here he was, lying half-naked upon the Cub's fur-covered bed, completely at his tender mercies, yearning for and welcoming Lucan's ministrations rather more enthusiastically than he believed he ever would. Burning with need and driven by an intense, uncontrollable desire for Lucan and his touch. Feelings that surpassed, went far beyond anything he'd felt for that traitorous Scout. Admittedly, Tristan had been a good lover. One who'd always satisfied him. But Lucan ? Ah, Luc was a sweet addiction. His company and touch left him wanting so much more. He was in Dagonet's blood and somehow, Dagonet instinctively knew he'd _never_ get enough of Lucan. That he'd _always_ want him.

A soft moan escaped Dagonet's lips as he felt a pair of agile, talented hands skim down his back only to surreptitiously slip beneath his clinging leathers to cup, knead and mould his arse possessively. His breath hitched once again and he felt himself harden even more. Something he thought impossible. By now his leathers were extremely uncomfortable and all Dagonet could think of was finding some sort of release. It had been months since he'd been with anyone other than his own hand and the youngling was driving him positively insane. Making him desperately crave intimacy. To feel cared for. Wanted. Loved. Everything Lucan was all too eager and willing to share with him. And the more Dagonet mulled over the situation, the more he thought why couldn't he take up Lucan's offer ? Why couldn't he have what _he_ wanted for once ? For most of his life, particularly after being conscripted by the Romans, he'd put everyone's wishes and desires ahead of his own. Forgotten about his own needs and wants while pandering to everyone else's ... And now, goddess only knew how, here was someone genuinely, sincerely, wanting to do the same for him ... Was it so very wrong of him to want to put himself first for once ? To have what other people had ? To have someone in his life that craved his happiness ? That wanted to be with him ... to love him ?

Dagonet was distracted from his thoughts by the sensations created by Lucan's magical hands and lips. They were creating havoc with his concentration. Sending his nerve endings alight. The need for release was killing him. Blinding him. Wearing down his self-control. He wanted to cum so badly that he ached. Actually felt physical pain ... an ache which could only be alleviated by the man he was with. By now, said man's right hand was fumbling with the laces at the front of Dagonet's leathers. Impatiently trying to undo them. He heard Lucan swear softly as the cord proved awkward, then sigh with relief as the knot finally gave way and he was able to tug the lace free from the eyelets. Without hesitation, Lucan slipped his hand inside the leathers and wrapped his fingers firmly around Dagonet's throbbing erection in order to free it from the confining breeches. Then, with an impish smile, Lucan began to rhythmically stroke the large shaft, causing the Healer to moan and writhe in protest.

"Luc, for mercy's sake ... s-stop !" Dagonet stuttered, his breathing now laboured.

" _Why ?_ " Lucan watched him with wide-eyed innocence, a look which was anything but.

"B-Because ... because I'm about to cum, you daft sod," Dagonet hissed, fighting a losing battle with his self-control. He made the mistake of meeting Lucan's bright, lively, knowing gaze which was twinkling with mischief.

"I know ..." came the reply accompanied with a wicked grin. Lucan continued to stroke the silken length in his hand, leisurely smearing the pre-cum which had gathered at the head. He felt the larger man tremble at his touch.

Dagonet shook his head vehemently. "No, you _don't_ understand ... I don't _want_ to cum like this. I want ..." he breathed deeply and slid his hand under the thick dark auburn waves to rest upon Lucan's nape and slowly drew his head closer to his. The open curiosity in Lucan's eyes was his undoing and he spoke quickly lest he falter and change his mind. Shy silver eyes nervously met interested blue. "I ... I want ... I need to ... _Oh, fuck !_ Want you _inside_ me the first time _you_ make me cum. Want to feel you _in_ me ... against me ... on and around me ... _I need you,_ Luc. Want you to make me forget everything ... Please ... show me that I can feel. That I can be happy ... Be the one that makes me feel that way again ..."

Lucan's hand froze from its ministrations. He slowly pulled his lower lip between his teeth, released it and absently licked it before nodding in acceptance. The fact that Dagonet had actually agreed to lie with him ... that he wanted the same as he did, left him stunned yet elated.

"Aye ... I can do that. _If_ you want me to ?" Lucan's replied hoarsely, finding the tint of colour staining the shy warrior's cheeks rather becoming. Dagonet silently nodded then his gaze drifted to Lucan's lips. His soulful pale eyes watched the Celt hungrily as his hand slowly moved from the native's nape to rest on the side of his neck, his thumb lazily grazing Lucan's full lower lip, causing it to part with a low moan. The feel of Lucan's tongue curling around his thumb and gently sucking the digit almost stole Dagonet's breath away.

"I do," he murmured softly, before gently extricating his thumb from Lucan's mouth in order to hungrily claim his lips. "Oh, goddess help me, do I ever …"

 _ **END OF FLASHBACK**_

It was only after he'd finished reminiscing that Dagonet noticed, much to his relief, that Lucan now lay sprawled on his belly, fast asleep. The older knight flipped his larger frame over to study his companion. As he did so, he took in a sharp intake of breath as the sudden movement aggravated the dull ache in his arse. Although he did not regret the physical activity of the previous night, the pain made him grimace and wince. It had been quite some time since he'd lain with anyone ... had allowed anyone so well-endowed to take him so thoroughly. And Lucan had been a _very_ considerate lover despite his unexpected inexperience. He'd left Dagonet completely satisfied, yet desperately wanting - _needing_ \- more.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he took his time to study Lucan. Taking in the sleek, lithe, tattooed body that had given him so much pleasure during the night; how innocent the man's handsome profile appeared as he slumbered; the cropped, reddish-brown hair which now spiked messily in all directions, after Dagonet's possessive fingers had raked through it on numerous counts during the night. Dagonet bit his lip as he saw bruises developing on Lucan's sinewy arms, clearly marking where he'd gripped tightly as the shifter had taken him time and time again. And Lucan _had_ made him happy ... had made him forget. Lucan _had_ loved him. If only for one night.

But in the cold light of day all the doubts, the lack of self-confidence came flooding back. The previous night had been naught but a dream ... a pleasant, beautiful one while it lasted. But that was all it could be. Nothing more. Nothing less. Not now. Not when reality finally kicked in. When it would show the youngling the error of his ways. The bad choice he'd made in bedding such a lost cause as him. After all, what had he, Dagonet, to offer someone like Lucan ? A man who's outer beauty was equalled, if not exceeded, by his inner beauty. For Lucan, Dagonet sadly realized, was all he could ever want. Kind, gentle, sensitive, funny and so very intelligent. He deserved far more, far better than an older, scarred, dull, broken shell of a man. And that's when Dagonet decided he couldn't - _would not_ \- in all good conscience, be the one to ruin the compassionate, youngling's life. He _would_ do the right thing. Would distance himself from the lad, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He would walk away and set Lucan free.

Dagonet shifted once more to sit on the side of the bed and tried to ignore the dull, throbbing ache he felt in his lower body every time he moved. He ran a tired hand down his face and sighed unhappily. His silver eyes were tinged with sorrow and regret. Sorrow for allowing himself to taste happiness for such a brief moment in time and regret for the pain he would cause Lucan with his rejection. That he was being cruel only to be kind ...

He reached for his leathers and wriggled into the snug-fitting garment, pausing only to slip the cording through the eyelets, yet not bothering to tie the lacing. Then, before his resolve waned, he grabbed his tunic and boots and silently stalked to the door. He dared not look back, knowing if he did, he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of slipping beneath the furs once more and wrapping himself around the bewitching man as he peacefully slept. Dagonet bit his lip, hating himself for what he was about to do to Lucan. For treating him in such a cowardly manner. But as Bors was often wont to say, he was "acting for the greater good." He'd allowed himself one night of happiness. To put his needs and wants first for a change. Yet now, in the cold light of day, he couldn't and wouldn't allow himself to use Lucan in such a selfish way.

No, it was better this way. Far kinder now to make a clean break, before Lucan got in too deep ... They would both be hurting for a while, but hopefully, Lucan would be able to move on. Would soon find someone far more worthy of him. Someone who wasn't as fucked up as Dagonet.

Sighing, Dagonet slipped out of the chamber and closed the door softly behind him, before hastily and quietly making his way to his own cold and lonely bed. Completely oblivious of his kinsman's presence as he passed the kennels on his way to the stables. And for once, Bors was truly caught unawares and stunned into a rare moment of silence by what he'd just witnessed ...

 _ **T.B.C.**_


	3. Regret and Remorse

_**Regret and Remorse**_

"Oi ! Moody !"

Ulric's deep, gruff voice resonated loudly as he stalked briskly into the kennel block towards where a certain depressed apprentice of his was currently feeding a ravenous pack of deerhounds. Helping him with the chaotic task was Bors' eldest daughter, Esyllt, who'd taken it upon herself to adopt the amiable newcomer as an older sibling, whether he liked it or not. Gasping for breath, the big man braced himself against the kennel's craggy stone wall and impatiently waved his hand in an attempt to draw Lucan's attention.

"Just seen something that may be of interest to you ... They're bac- "

The shifter never gave Ulric the opportunity to finish what he had to say. Both he and Esyllt heard the jarring clatter of meat bowls falling onto the rough stone floor as Lucan sprang to his feet. Icy blue-green eyes narrowed with intent and the shrewd Mage's face hardened as he wordlessly tore out of the tavern heading instinctively for the stables. The panting Celt giant immediately sank against the wall and grinned weakly as his gaze met that of the only other occupant in the room who was burning with curiosity. Sensing that something was amiss and because she, like her mother, was far from being a fool, Esyllt raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"Alright ... what the bloody hell did I miss ?" Esyllt demanded quietly, her soft voice laced with suspicion. "What's been going on that you're not telling me ? Can't be good if Lucan's buggered off at that speed ... Never knew he could move so fast ..."

"D'ya think ?" Ulric smirked, knowing full well the reason why his fellow Celt had torn out of the building without a word. He only hoped that the Brethren's unexpected return would cheer up the unhappy lad he'd become rather fond of.

Esyllt merely huffed. The brow of her lovely face furrowed in concern, reminding the hounds-master of her mother, Vanora. Bors' lass was the spitting image both in looks and temperament of the stunning, titian-haired barkeep and would undoubtedly be as smart and as formidable as her as well. She moved silently to stand before him, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her right index finger tapping impatiently against her upper left arm, before stating bluntly, "Well, then you'd best fill me in hadn't you, Ulric- "

Ulric merely grinned in amusement, before tilting his head towards the direction of his home, where his wife Rhiannon was more than likely preparing lunch. "C'mon ..."

"Where to ?" Esyllt eyed him warily, her caution definitely reminding him of Vanora.

Grinning, Ulric replied, "You hungry ? I don't know about you, but my belly feels as if my throat's being cut. If you want to know what's going on with young Lucan, you'd best come home with me. Rhiannon will be happy to see you, little one. She's always moaning she doesn't get to see you as often as she'd like ..."

Esyllt's eyes narrowed briefly then grinned. Her smile dazzled him. "Aye, I'd like that. It'd be good to see Rhiannon again ... and besides, I've missed her cooking," she added impishly.

The hounds-master laughed. Oh, this spirited, little hell-cat was Bors' daughter for sure ... and so very like her mother.

 _ **XXXX**_

A breathless Lucan came to an abrupt halt at the stable entrance. He quickly scanned the inside of the building until his anxious gaze fell upon the massive sable destrier in the stall next to Ignis'. There, standing in front of the powerful beast was the familiar figure of the tall, strapping man who'd robbed him of sleep over the past few nights. Anger was instantly swept away by a wave of overwhelming relief. Although Dagonet's sudden vanishing act had left Lucan hurt and disappointed, the welcome sight of the older knight dispelled any tension or worry he'd felt. Now all he longed for was to wrap his arms around the man he loved and simply hold him close ... to reassure them both that everything would be alright.

He watched the Roxolani as he stood before Flight, clearly seeking solace and strength from the calm, unflappable, gentle animal as he rested his forehead lightly against its large, noble head. Dagonet's right hand absently stroked the horse's sleek, well-muscled neck in a gesture that clearly soothed them both and which immediately had Lucan yearning to feel the rugged Healer's touch upon his own bare skin. He inhaled raggedly before silently stalking further inside the stable, closing the gap between himself and his intended quarry.

"So, it's true," Lucan announced quietly, his husky voice breaking the silence and startling Dagonet. "Heard you were back ..." Appearing relaxed, he leant against the wooden partition which divided both stalls and studied the scarred warrior intently.

As soon as Dagonet heard Lucan's voice, he froze. Tension flowed through every nerve and sinew of his lean frame. Dag slowly closed his eyes before reluctantly raising his head to look at the handsome, persistent Celt, whilst affectionately scratching the white star between the midnight hued stallion's eyes. Then, without warning, he pulled away from Flight and silently brushed past the slighter man, clearly with the sole intention of fleeing.

Recognizing the "fight or flight" mode that Dagonet had resorted to, Lucan's hand moved at lightning speed. Long, slim, dexterous fingers curled in a firm, unyielding grasp around the Roxolani's wrist. Holding him captive.

"Why ? Tell me why you did it." Lucan asked softly, his wounded gaze silently pleading for a reply or some sort of reaction from the silent Healer. "Why did you run ? I ... I thought ... I'd hoped - hell, I fucking believed - that things had been sorted between us, Dag ... That we'd come to an understanding. That you were willing to give me a chance ..."

Remaining obstinately mute, the scarred giant's head was bowed and he deliberately kept his molten silver gaze averted as his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. The silence worried and unnerved the younger man. Ever since he'd arrived at the fort, observing or rather studying the attractive Roxolani had become Lucan's favourite pastime ... it was the one thing that gave him the greatest pleasure in a place Dagonet deemed to be hell ... He'd become so attuned to the strapping knight's feelings and thoughts that he could sense Dagonet's various moods, even when he was quiet. And Lucan recognized and loved every one of those silences, but for this one ...

"Please, Dag ... I'm begging you, talk to me. Please, Wolf- "

At the mention of the brethren's pet name for him, Dagonet reacted immediately. His head jerked upwards and pale-faced, he began to shake it in violent denial.

"N-No ! I-I can't do this. I'm sorry, but I can't- "

"Can't do what ?"

" _This !_ I just can't."

To Lucan's dismay, Dagonet's expressive silver eyes had widened in panic. It was a look the Mage never thought he'd see on the powerful Roxolani. And it was a look which did not sit well upon the older knight. Lucan immediately raised his right hand, with the sole intention of caressing his Healer's scarred cheek in a gesture of solace, only to have Dagonet shy away from him.

"Bollocks ! That's just a load of shit, Dag and you damn well know it. 'Course you can. You can do anything if you put your bloody mind to it- " Lucan retorted in exasperation. The Roxolani's reaction bewildered him and he couldn't deny the way Dag had flinched and recoiled from him hadn't hurt. It had. Deeply.

"Bloody hell, Luc ! Are you _really_ that fucking stupid ? What part of "I can't" don't you get, huh ?" Dagonet growled. His silver eyes narrowed with anger as he glared at the pale hand that still firmly grasped his wrist. Lucan chose to ignore that subtle hint and silently drew closer to the tall Sarmatian who'd become his greatest weakness. He began to unconsciously rub circles against the sensitive flesh of Dagonet's inner wrist with the rough, callused pad of his thumb.

Dagonet's breath instantly hitched and he immediately demanded, "Release me ... _Now,_ Lucan. Let me go and leave me be ..."

The shifter slowly and defiantly shook his head. He placed his free hand upon Dagonet's tunic-clad left pectoral and deliberately backed the taller knight against the oak partition, effectively trapping him. Dag's normally mild, calm gaze became wild and tempestuous.

"No," Lucan drawled. His husky voice projected a calm confidence he certainly didn't feel. Canting his head to one side, he was all too aware of the strength and heat that radiated through the thin rust coloured tunic from the powerful chest beneath his palm; the erratic rise and fall of that very same chest and its wildly racing heartbeat. Lucan coolly appraised his captive and was stunned to see how ill at ease the larger warrior appeared. That Dagonet was unusually perturbed by his proximity. Something which was instantly confirmed by the strange look in his pale eyes. A look Lucan had never witnessed before. It was one of fear. And trepidation.

"Tell me, Dag, I _need_ to know ... Why are you doing this ? _Why_ are you pushing me away ? What are you so afraid of ?" The confused warlock softly demanded. He slowly dragged his hand away from Dagonet's chest then gently trailed the knuckles down the scarred knight's face and neck. The hand began a leisurely descent. It lingered possessively over Dagonet's throbbing heart once more, before drifting downwards over the hard, muscular planes of the elder's abdomen. An imperceptible grin played upon Lucan's lips as he felt the sleek sinews tense and flex beneath his touch. "Not me, surely ? You shouldn't fear me, my wary, gentle Wolf. _Never me_..."

There was a slight, dull thud as Dagonet's head fell back and struck the wooden partition. High cheekbones were faintly stained with colour; silver orbs - usually so clear in hue - were dilated, darkened by desire and smoky with need. Captivated, Lucan could only watch as Dagonet's tongue darted out to nervously moisten his lips, before he bit down hard upon the lower one to stifle a needy moan. Lucan's hand came to rest possessively upon Dagonet's right hip, his thumb surreptitiously slipping beneath the tunic to gently caress the top of his shy lover's hip bone.

"D-Don't ... P-Please, Luc ... Stop. D-Don't do that ..."

Lucan could hardly miss the soft plea in his beloved's husky voice or the way his strapping frame trembled with arousal.

"Please _what,_ Dag ? _Don't_ love you ? _Stop_ caring for you ? I could no more do that than stop breathing ... Shit, Dag ! I would _never_ \- could never - hurt you ... I swear to gods, upon my life, that I'll do all I can to avoid causing you any suffering or pain. You own me. Body. Mind. Soul. And my heart. Especially my heart. I'm yours, Dag. _Only yours_. Have been from the moment I saw you ... Always will be ... You have my word, as a Celt, a friend and hopefully, if you'll have me ... lover- "

Dagonet slowly shook his head in denial. "No, Luc. No more, I beg you ... This ... This thing ... whatever it is between us, it _has_ to stop. It _can't_ go on. _We_ can't go on like this. What I did to you was wrong. I should never have let things to get so far. For you to get in so deep. The other night was a mistake ... a cruel, selfish one on my part and ... and I regret it. I regret hurting you. And I also regret allowing myself to get close to someone aga- "

Lucan's arms suddenly fell to his sides as he looked incredulously at Dagonet. "What the fuck do you mean by "a mistake" ? You did nothing wrong, you daft sod ! I _knew_ what I was getting into once I realized this was meant to be. That things aren't always easy and you have to take the rough with the smooth. That anything or _anyone_ worth having, is worth fighting for ... It's not _your_ fault if I get hurt and you're _not_ to blame if I'm in too deep."

Dagonet sighed deeply and his countenance was still troubled. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm not strong enough to go through all of this again ... and I'm not who you seek, Lucan. You deserve better."

Carding long, slim, callused fingers through his short hair, Lucan eyed the bigger man in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "For the love of gods, Dag ... Can you _hear_ yourself ? D'ya honestly believe all that shit ? _Truly ?_ 'Cause I don't. You're one of the strongest people I've met- "

The scarred man gave a doubtful snort and raised a sceptical eyebrow. His response immediately angered the Celt.

"For an intelligent man, you're a bloody idiot if you believe all that crap ... and unlike some, I never took you for a fool, Dag. Never." Shrewd, gleaming eyes glared at the Roxolani giant in indignation. "I may be younger than you and not so experienced in the ways of the world, but I'm man enough to know who I want, need and love ... and that's you, you daft, stubborn bugger ! _You_ are who I seek. The one _I_ crave. You may not be perfect - bloody hell, _neither_ of us are - but in my eyes you are. You're perfect for me. And that's all that matters- "

"Luc- "

Closing his eyes briefly, Lucan sighed softly and rubbed his bearded chin absently. He reached out his hand and gently caressed Dagonet's left cheek. "Dag, I know what's worrying you. You're afraid that I'll do the same as the others. That once you let me in and we become close, that I'll bugger off 'n' leave you ... Thing is, I'll never do that. _I need you_. Love you too much to do that and ... and honestly ? I'm not strong enough to stay away from you ... Couldn't, even if I wanted to. I'm not fucking Tristan ... and I'm not Tor either- _aagh !_ "

Lucan winced and his blue eyes widened with pain as Dagonet crushed his wrist in a vice-like grip. Shock had drained the Healer's face of all colour and his pale eyes were full of ice-cold rage. One look was all it took for Lucan to begin to realize just how dangerous his sensitive, gentle giant could be. That Dagonet could be, when the need arose, as deadly as the other members of the brethren when crossed. And right now ? The big man looked absolutely furious and out for someone's blood ...

"How the hell did y- ? _Who_ told you ?" Dagonet snarled as he glared at the slighter man. Lucan winced once again as his wrist bones were ground painfully against each other by Dagonet's relentless grasp. He gave another pained hiss.

"N-No one, Dag ... Swear to gods ... on my life even. No one told _me_ anything-"

" _Liar !_ Someone must've said something. You'd _never_ have known about Tor otherwise ... No one knew ... No one, except ..." Realization suddenly dawned upon the brawny Sarmatian as to the identity of the culprit who'd betrayed his secret. " _Gods-damn fucking Bors !_ Just couldn't keep his big mouth shut, could he ? Bastard promised me he would never ... said he'd never tell. Bloody hell ! It's come to something when you can't trust your own kin to keep his sodding yap shut !"

"Bors never told me anyth- "

"He must have. He's the only one who knew."

"Does it honestly matter how I know ? I don't understand why you're so pissed- "

" 'Course it bloody matters !" Dagonet spat, suddenly releasing Lucan's wrist as if it burned him. The youngling immediately cradled his tender, reddened wrist. The bruises left by Dagonet's fingers on his pale skin were like livid brand marks. A sign of ownership.

"It's a bloody tavern, Dag ! People sometimes overhear things, things they aren't meant to know. I can't help it if I was at the right place at the wrong time, or depending you how you see it, the wrong place at the right time ... You know I'd never leave you. Don't want to leave you," Lucan muttered, raising his eyes from his bruised limb to steadily meet Dagonet's glacial stare. "I'm not a fool like Tristan ... too stupid to see what I had. That I had someone worth loving. Someone to treasure. And I'm not To- "

"Don't you _dare_ , Lucan ... Don't even dare fucking compare yourself to him. You're nothing like Tor, d'ya hear me ? _Nothing !_ No one comes close to him. No one could ever come close ... or ever will." Dagonet's eyes burned fiercely with unshed tears and his voice was choked and raspy with pain.

"But I wasn't compa- "

"No ? Sure sounded like it to me." Dagonet pulled his lower lip between his teeth and worried it briefly. "Tell me Lucan, have you ever seen someone _you_ care for struck down in battle before your very eyes and could do fuck all to help him ? To have _your_ _lover_ \- someone you love more than life itself - draw his last breath and die in your arms ? Have you ever felt so fucking lost and helpless ? That all you crave, that you desperately want, is to die so that you can be with him ? Well, have you ?"

Lucan could only shake his head as Dagonet's harsh words pierced his heart. That Dagonet had unwittingly or deliberately revealed that he was still in love with another. One he could never compete with. A dead man.

"Well, _I_ have ... And it fucking hurts so much. It's the worst pain imaginable. Far worse than any physical wound or injury ... Tristan's betrayal was nothing to me compared to Tor's loss. It was meaningless. But Tor ? He truly loved me. Fought desperately to stay with me, even as he lay dying in my arms. Had he lived ... had he survived, we'd still be together to this day, because I adored him. But he was stolen from me ... I lost him," Dagonet paused and dragged a weary hand down his pain-ravaged face. "And that's why I can't do this. Why we can't be together. I'm not prepared or strong enough to cope with losing someone else that I care about. And if I lost you ... it'd break me, Luc. For good ..."

The powerful Roxolani brushed past the lean shifter, intent on finding his cousin and tearing a strip off him for betraying his confidence.

"Dag ..." Lucan pleaded softly, "please, don't go. Stay with me. I love y- "

Dagonet froze then slowly turned his head to look at the handsome Mage over his right shoulder. Lucan looked devastated. Wan, his eyes glittered with sorrow and disappointment as he noted the resolve on the face of the man he loved.

"Oh, Luc ... I know you think you do- "

" _Think ?_ What d'ya mean by fucking "think" ? I _know_ I do- " came the heated, anguished response.

"You may _think_ you do, Luc, but you _need_ to let me go. _You_ need to move on. Find someone better. Someone who truly deserves you- "

" _You_ deserve me. I don't _want_ to move on or find someone else. I want you, for mercy's sake. _You,_ Dagonet ! Why in goddess' name can't you see and accept that, you stubborn fool ? You're all I want and need. If I can't have you, then ... then I'd rather be alone or ... dead- "

Horrified, Dagonet spun around on his heel, silver eyes wide with shock. "You don't mean it ? You can't ..."

The desperate bravado instantly deserted Lucan and he slowly shook his bowed head. "Aye, you're right. I don't. But I may as well be dead if I can't have you, Wolf. You give my life meaning. Purpose. You're the reason I get up in the mornings. Why I left my family for this hellhole. To be among people I don't know or trust. Why I work with those beasts and clear up their shit every day. I don't do it for myself, for mercy's sake ... I do it so I can be near you should you ever need me. I do it for you. For _you,_ Dagonet ... for you ..." Lucan slowly raised his head and cautiously approached Dagonet.

The Roxolani agitatedly rubbed his nape then replied softly, "Then you're doing it for the wrong reason, Lucan. You shouldn't be doing it for me ... Do it for yourself. No one else ... Staying here for my sake, isn't a good reason, little one ... I'm not worth it." He eyed the younger man who stood before him sadly, hating himself for causing his kindly, loyal friend such pain. "You have to understand, Luc, I'm not doing this deliberately to hurt you. I have to do this for both our sakes. I'm being cruel to be kind. The last thing I want is to make you unhappy, but- " Not knowing what else he could say that wouldn't hurt or further offend the man he'd genuinely come to deeply care for, respect and admire, Dagonet sighed and slowly began to walk away towards the stable doors.

"And you _truly_ think this is the answer ? That _this_ won't cause me any pain ? That I won't be unhappy ?" Lucan yelled furiously at Dagonet's silently retreating figure. "Well, fuck you ! You're bloody wrong and your stupid decision's killing me. Gods-damnit, Dagonet ! _You're a coward_..."

Lucan saw the giant pause for an instant then briskly stalk out of the stable, just as a perplexed Aeron entered the building, to hear her brother curse the man he loved as he repeatedly struck a partition to an empty stall with his fists until they were battered and bloody.

"You're a gods-damned fucking coward, Dag ... A caitiff ! And if you're daft enough to believe this is the end of the matter, then you're in for a nasty shock, my Wolf ... A real eye-opener."

 _ **T.B.C.**_


	4. Fury and Solace

_**Fury and Solace**_

 _ **Previously:**_

"And you _truly_ think this is the answer ? That _this_ won't cause me any pain ? That I won't be unhappy ?" Lucan yelled furiously at Dagonet's silently retreating figure. "Well, fuck you ! You're bloody wrong and your stupid decision's killing me. Gods-damnit, Dagonet ! _You're a coward_..."

Lucan saw the giant pause for an instant, then briskly stalk out of the stable, just as Aeron ran into the building, to hear her brother curse the man he loved as he repeatedly struck a partition to an empty stall with his fists until they were battered and bloody.

"You're a gods-damned fucking coward, Dag ... A caitiff ! And if you're daft enough to believe this is the end of the matter, then you're in for a nasty shock, my Wolf ... A real eye-opener."

 _ **XXXXX**_

Dag immediately froze, and briefly closed his eyes.

It was impossible to miss the anguish and pain behind Lucan's furious accusation as the words resonated and spun in Dagonet's head. He couldn't ignore the younger man's condemnation of his behaviour ... his accusation of cowardice, even if he wanted to. Nor could he blame Lucan for it. Not when it was the goddess' honest truth. The Cub was right. Undeniably so. He was a coward. Too afraid of involvement. And it was of no consequence whether that involvement was mentally, physically or emotionally ... He was weak. Vulnerable. And lacked the courage to place his faith and trust in another. Even though he desperately longed to with Lucan.

No matter how he looked at the situation, there was one thing Dagonet couldn't possibly deny and that was the fact that handsome native had, in a short period of time, somehow broken through his defences. Got under his skin. Taken over his thoughts and dreams. And completely claimed his heart. That abrupt realization startled him greatly, causing the Roxolani to bolt from the stables, almost careering into a very pretty, yet concerned looking young woman as she entered the stables.

Still stunned by the discovery of his true feelings for Lucan, Dagonet ducked his head and muttered a hesitant "sorry" then much to Aeron's bemusement, fled as if chased by a pack of wolves that were closing in for the kill. Once he'd got some distance between himself, the stables and its occupants, Dagonet slumped wearily against a wall and fought to regain his composure. Inhaling deeply, Dagonet slowly shook his head in disbelief. So consumed was he by guilt-ridden thoughts, he failed to notice that he'd somehow managed to bite his lower lip. Hard. Drawing blood.

How in goddess' name could he have acted so stupidly ? Could hurt someone he'd come to value greatly so badly ? Despite all of his best intentions, he hadn't wanted to hurt Lucan ... Hell ! That was the last thing he ever wished to do. Yet he'd done so. Simply because he wasn't man enough to face his fears ... That he had an irrational dread of rejection and being hurt once again by someone he cared for. And that was why he bolted. Had fled from someone who willingly chose - wanted - to be with him. One who loved him.

Sighing, Dag raised his head abruptly, striking it with a dull thud against the stone building behind him. Wincing, he swore softly, then reluctantly pushed his powerful frame away from the wall. Suddenly, he became aware of the trickle of blood seeping from his lip and impatiently wiped it away with the back of his hand.

If truth be told, this gods-damned mess with Lucan wasn't the only thing preying on his mind ... There was also the slight matter of a ten year old oath being broken. Of an outspoken kinsman, who'd betrayed his trust by revealing a confidence that Dagonet had hoped to carry to his grave. Dagonet swore furiously, then silently headed towards the tavern with the sole intent of confronting his cousin for his indiscretion ...

 _ **XXXXX**_

Dagonet stalked into the tavern, deliberately keeping to the shadows to avoid being detected. He scanned the room thoroughly until his gaze fell upon the stocky figure of the shaven-headed belligerant, outspoken troublemaker whom he sought. Bors.

The elder Roxolani was sat at his usual table, with his back to where his kinsman stood. Sharing his table was Lamorak. Somehow, to most of the Sarmatian contingency's bewilderment, a bond had formed between Bors and the Iazyges; although the younger man was fiercely independant and a skilled and proven warrior, Bors respected and had become fond of the titan, clearly viewing him as a younger sibling. And now, if he wasn't with the twins or the younger knights, 'Rak could be found keeping company with the fort's mouthy pugilist, sharing a meal and the odd tankard, as well as putting the world to rights as they saw fit.

Dagonet unfurled his tall frame, which had been leaning against a wooden pillar, and slowly advanced towards the table. Lamorak was the first to notice the Roxolani giant's approach. The Iazyges immediately noted the coiled tension within the young Healer and the barely contained anger which simmered and glittered within the cool depths of his silver eyes. There was no doubt in 'Rak's mind that Dagonet was genuinely pissed about something and that all of his fury, his pent up rage, was solely directed at one person ... Bors.

Reaching for his tankard, Lamorak stretched out his long legs. His heavy, thick leather boot caught Bors on the ankle while doing so.

"'Rak ! What the fu- ?" Bors spluttered, coughing as a mouthful of ale accidentally went down the wrong way. 'Rak merely tilted his head in the Roxolani's kinsman's direction and gave his brother-at-arms a meaningful look. Bors, oblivious to Dagonet's mood, immediately swung around in his chair. A broad grin beamed across his good natured countenance as he met his aloof cousin's icy gaze.

"Dag ! Sit. Have some ale- "

Dagonet towered over his kinsman. He glowered at Bors and clearly was in no mood to make small talk or be friendly. Bending down, Dagonet leant over Bors, his right hand clenched around the top of the back of his cousin's chair, his left resting flat upon the oak table's rough surface.

"How _could_ you ?" he snarled. The tone of his normally husky, rich baritone low and fierce, causing his kinsman's grin to suddenly falter and his dark eyes to watch him uncertainly. " _I fucking trusted you !_ In all the years I've known you, I've _never_ asked anything of you but this ... You swore to me you'd keep it to yourself. Made a fucking vow that what happened would remain between us, would stay in the past ... and now ? Now I find I can't even trust you to keep your bloody yap shut- " Dagonet suddenly remembered they weren't alone, when Lamorak slowly rose to his feet. He gestured for the Iazyges to remain in his seat.

"You don't have to leave on my account, 'Rak. You'll hear all about my sordid past anyway ... seeing as my oh-so trustworthy, beloved cousin saw fit to reveal it to all 'n' sundry ... To let everyone know my business. You'll soon know how much of a failure I've become ... How worthless and damaged I am - unless you already know ?"

Shaking his head in furious denial, Bors immediately grabbed Dagonet's forearm, only for the taller knight to violently shrug his hand off. "Dag, listen to me, y'daft bugger. You're _not_ a failure, or worthless or damag- "

Narrowed glacial silver orbs skewered the fort's brawler to the spot, their intensity and ice-cold fury stunning him into silence.

"And you," Dagonet growled, "just shut the fuck up ! You've done enough damage. What, for mercy's sake, made you think you had the gods given right to betray my confidence ? What in goddess' name possessed you to break your oath ? D'ya actually realize what you've done ? Well, d'ya ? Out of everyone in this bloody cesspit, I trusted _you_ the most. Why ? 'Cause you're family. You're _my_ blood ... We're meant to have each other's backs at all times. Be loyal to each other and most of all, be able to trust each other ... But now ? After what you've done, I don't think I'll ever be able to trust or confide in you again !"

Bors clambered to his feet, clearly upset by his kinsman's furious words. "Dagonet ! Listen. I was only trying to … Shit ! If it helps Lucan understand why- "

"No !" Dagonet backed away, slowly shaking his head. "You don't get to do this to me. You don't get to spring the "I did this for the greater good" crap on me and expect me to be fine about it. Don't you get it ? It's _my_ life you've been gossiping about like an old hag ! My life … _My_ personal business. You've no damn right to meddle or interfere. None !"

"Bu- "

" _NO !_ From now on, just ... just stay the fuck away from me !" And with that furious retort, Dagonet stalked out of the tavern without even a backward glance.

Bors meanwhile, looked conflicted. Unsure whether to follow his irate cousin and thrash the whole thing out or just leave the matter be. Fortunately, the decision was taken from him when two large hands fell upon his broad shoulders, steering him back to and roughly shoving his arse back on his chair in a manner that would brook no argument.

"Sit, Bors," Lamorak quietly murmured, reaching for an ewer and nonchalantly filling both tankards up to the brim. "Leave Dag be ... He needs time to cool off. To sort his head out." He paused and took a sip from his tankard. His astute grey eyes held a pensive look. "Though I'll say this, whatever you did _really_ pissed him off ... I've never seen Dag so angry."

Bors merely shrugged and drank some of his ale, then gave a sudden snort of amusement. "Oh, that was nothing ... Our Dag's usually so quiet and rarely loses control, it comes as rather a shock to folk when he does snap. Still," Bors grinned impishly before adding, much to 'Rak's astonishment, "he took it far better than I thought he would ..."

All Lamorak could do was choke upon his pint and watch the older Roxolani incredulously. "You mean _you knew_ he'd react like that ? That he'd lose his temper and tear a strip off you ? You bloody _knew ?_ One of these days, you'll go too far ..."

Bors nodded and smirked infuriatingly at the younger Sarmatian warrior. "As if I'll go too far ... 'Course I knew. What did you take me for ? A fool ?"

Looking unbearably smug, Bors cradled his tankard carefully within both hands and replied casually, "I know the daft sod as well as I know myself. Besides, who d'ya think's been winding him up all these years ? Dag'll come around. He always does. He can be a stubborn, hard-headed git at times, but in the end it all boils down to one thing. Blood. We're kin,' Rak and no matter what, we'll always have each other's backs ... even if we are fucking pissed at each other."

It was a wonder, 'Rak thought as he shook his head in disbelief, that Dagonet had such remarkable restraint and hadn't killed the exasperating bugger by now ... There were times and this was clearly one of them, that Bors could be the absolute bloody limit !

 _ **XXXXX**_

"Luc ?"

Aeron cautiously approached her sibling, eyeing him all the while with wary, dark eyes. The slight man looked fit to be tied and it had been a long, long time since Aeron had seen him so angry ... So upset. In fact, she was hard pressed to think of a time she'd seen Lucan so stressed. Of the two of them, Lucan had always been the more sensitive and dare she say it, calmer sibling. The one who'd felt things deeply. Lucan had always been passionate, although Aeron had never seen him react so powerfully or feel so intensely as he did towards the young Roxolani Healer. Then again, Aeron mused, Lucan had never fallen so overwhelmingly hard or irrevocably in love with someone either ...

"Lucan ... you alright ? What happened ?"

"Nothing," came the terse reply. "Nothing happened ... as always. I'm fine !"

Aeron gave a disbelieving snort and closed the gap between them, her brow furrowed with concern. "Like hell you are, brother ! Don't lie to me. I always know when something's eating away at you ... and something's clearly bothering you, so there's no point denying it."

"I _said_ I'm fine, Aer !"

"No, you're not ! You've been like a bear with a sore head for weeks. Ever since you bedded Dag and he ran out on you- "

"How the hell did you find out about that ?" Lucan eyed his younger sister in horror, shocked that she appeared to know the true extent of his "relationship" with Dagonet.

"Fuck "how" I know ! All that matters is that I do ... and you're not happy. And neither is he. Now, Luc, you going to tell me what's going on between the pair of you ? Or do I have to resort to kicking your sorry arse across this bloody fort 'n' back until you do ? 'Cause I will if I have to. Now, talk !"

Lucan sighed wearily and carded restless fingers through thick, tawny tresses and reluctantly met his sister's shrewd, unwavering gaze. "You're a complete and utter bitch, Aer ... D'ya know that ? A right cow ..."

Shrugging her slim shoulders nonchalantly, the younger Woad smirked, knowing full well that it would only irk her sibling further. "Then tell me what's going on ... Why you're so het up and why Dag could barely look me in the eye earlier before bolting from here ? 'Cause you may as well, seeing as I've no intention of moving from here or letting you out of my sight 'til you do."

Seeing the resolute expression on Aeron lovely face and the steely glint in her eyes, was enough to have the usually reticent Mage groaning in capitulation and slowly - reluctantly - confiding in his sibling.

"And that, in a nutshell's what happe- _OUCH !_ "

There was a sudden, sharp crack as skin connected with scalp. Lucan rubbed the back of his head gingerly and eyed his sister in wounded indignation. "What's wrong with you ? Why in _Annwn_ ' _s_ name did you do that ?"

"What's wrong with _me ?_ What the fuck's wrong with _you_ more like ... No wonder Dag's upset with you. I can't believe you did something so stupid and you're meant to be the bright one ! What possessed you to mention Tor like that to him ? Never mind that Bors said all that in confidence to Ywain ... You do realize you've really dropped Bors right in the shit with Dag by running your mouth about Tor ?"

A pained expression crossed Lucan's face as he realized the enormity and stark truth of his sister's words. In all fairness, Aeron rarely did the grumpy, authoritative know-it-all act, but when she did, Lucan always paid attention. He groaned as the meaning of Aeron's words sank in.

"I ... I truly didn't think," he eventually murmured.

"No, you didn't. This isn't like you, Luc. You _never_ go into anything blind. So why in goddess' name would you start now ?"

Lucan responded - unusually for him - with a helpless shrug.

Aeron sighed and began to wonder if she was slightly out of her depth. "Luc ... You knew how fragile Dag was after all that shit with Tristan ... How vulnerable he was and by the sound of it, still is, yet you still chose to pursue him ..." she paused and anxiously rubbed her nape. "Maybe it's time for you to do as he wishes ... Let him go."

The suggestion instantly had her brother instantly recoiling. "You ask too much of me, Aer. I could never do that. I couldn't leave Dag, no more than you could give up Safir ... I love him."

And that was the crux of it all, Aeron mused sadly. Her wilful, sensitive brother had finally succumbed to his feelings and had fallen hard for the one person at the fort who'd tragically become an emotional wreck. And Dagonet, that hapless, broken shell of a man, had somehow succeeded where many in the past had failed ... He'd been the one - despite giving the canny shifter no encouragement - to finally bring the cool-headed, solitary Lucan to his knees; had mesmerized and turned the Mage's head before completely enslaving his heart. All in all, the situation in Aeron's mind, was a gods-damned fucking mess and someone was going to end up badly hurt. And the way things were headed, Aeron slowly closed her eyes in regret, that someone was sure to be her beloved brother.

"So, how do you propose to mend this, Luc ?" Aeron's soft-spoken question finally broke the silence. For once, her brother - the one who always had a reliable back-up plan to fall upon - looked confused and completely at a loss.

"Buggered if I know, Aer," he sighed then worried his lower lip pensively. "I haven't a sodding clue. All I do know is that I'm not letting him bolt from me again ... Whether the daft sod realizes it or not, we belong together. He's mine, as much as I'm his ..."

"Well, I hope you know what you've let yourself in for, brother ... If you love and want Dag as badly as you say, then you'll have to fight tooth and claw for him ... and going by what I've seen and heard, he will not make things easy for you ..."

For the first time that evening, Lucan unexpectedly grinned. An impish gleam - no, Aeron immediately reconsidered, a positively unholy gleam - lit up Lucan's eyes. "Oh, I'm well aware of how difficult Dag's going to make things. Wouldn't have it any other way ... Besides, you know how I love a challenge and this is one I've no intention of losing."

Aeron threw her head back and laughed. This was more like her beloved brother. Relentless, goal-orientated and completely focused. Having seen that spark in Lucan's eyes, Aeron began to feel a twinge of sympathy for the unsuspecting Roxolani. Poor Dagonet wouldn't have a clue what had hit him once Lucan began his pursuit in earnest.

"I reckon you're going to need all the help you can get, Luc," she stated bluntly, looping a slender arm through Lucan's. "I just hope by the time we catch up with him, Bors will still talk to you and will be willing to help and, for _your_ sake, that he isn't one to hold grudges ... _You,_ have a world of grovelling to do, if you want your lover's kinsman on side. So, the quicker we find Bors and get it done, the better ... aye ?"

Filled with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, Lucan could only nod and silently allowed his determined sister to steer him in the direction of the tavern. To where a certain mouthy, opinionated individual was bound to be waiting for them.

 _ **Finis ?**_


End file.
